Redemption
by enigma013
Summary: He saves lives. She takes them. Could she possibly be redeemed for the terrible crimes she's committed? Sarah will learn just that when she finds herself among survivors of the missing Flight 815. Full Summary Inside. JackxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lost. **

**Full Summary: He saves lives. She takes them. Could she possibly be redeemed for the terrible crimes she's committed? Sarah Gray will learn just that when she finds herself among survivors of the missing Flight 815 and a doctor with the true ability to heal even the deepest wounds. Jack/OC**

**A/N: My first LOST fanfic that I've been excited to start for a while now, but I wanted to make sure everything was just right. I plan to have some flashbacks and such so that there's a deeper understanding of my OC. I think you might like her, though. Hope you enjoy and leave a review!**

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><p><em><strong>-One-<strong>_

From where Jack stood, he could hear the waves breaking on the sand down at the shoreline. It was another sunny day, glaringly so, though the faint wind did some to alleviate the heat. The humidity, however, was unavoidable. Every time he breathed in, he could taste the moisture in the air. The rain came in spontaneous downpours. It had been a mere five days since the plane stranded them on this beach, and already he was becoming accustomed to these things.

"…and you know we're having trouble with the rations, of course. They're nearly drained. You'd think Shannon, skinny as she is, wouldn't eat more than her fair share, but—Jack. Jack? Do you hear me?"

Jack blinked up at Charlie, who had paused in his movements to stare at Jack curiously. Jack stacked another set of decrepit boxes found from the plane under the large tent before straightening up again. It'd been earlier in the morning, just when the sun was peeking out from the horizon, when he'd been asked to help with the depleted food supply situation. Now he felt a little guilty that his attentions continued to drift elsewhere. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just…"

Charlie waved a hand in the air, the white bandages on his knuckles showing like a sign of truce. Jack thought the black ink letters on it read "LATE", but he couldn't be sure.

"Of course you've got a lot on your mind. We all do. What with that…" Charlie threw an uneasy glance out towards the jungle, "monster lurking about. What do you think it is, anyway?"

Jack only smiled. "When you figure it out, you let me know."

"Hurley thinks it's a dinosaur of sorts. Can you believe it? The man still thinks dinosaurs roam the earth."

After several seconds of no response, Charlie stopped counting the remaining bags of peanuts and glanced up at Jack again. The doctor was staring off into the jungle, his eyes focused in on something. Before Charlie could say anything, Jack blinked twice and looked back down, continuing to count where he'd left off. After tossing the last pack in the amassed pile of peanuts, his mouth settled into a grim line.

"We've got at least forty-eight people to feed. There's not even half of that here."

Charlie frowned. "Maybe we shouldn't have burned the plane last night. I mean, I get the whole thing about the dead being bait and all, but if there was any more food left—"

"There wasn't," Jack shook his head. He could still smell the smoke from the vast fire that'd burned through flesh and bone. He rubbed at his eyes as if he could rub the image away. "We gathered all the supplies in there. All that was left was… people."

Before Charlie could reply, he caught Hurley coming in a half-run at them, breathing heavily. The wind caught the curls of his hair, pulling them astray. Some stuck to a gather of sweat on his forehead. There was a line of worry between his eyebrows and his eyes were atypical of his usual lighthearted self.

"Guys!" he half-panted half-shouted as he stopped before them, placing his hands on his knees as he took a moment to catch his breath. Then he pointed down towards the beach, looking between them fervently. "There's something going on down at the water. Shannon thought she saw something but no one can really tell what the heck—"

He broke off at Shannon's recognizable high-pitched screaming.

All three men looked at the shoreline, where a crowd of the survivors had gathered, while Hurley muttered, "Well, I guess they figured it out. That can't be—"He stopped again as he watched Jack take off towards the shore with that now familiar crisis-dealing look on his face. "—good." Exchanging a glance with Charlie, they headed on after Jack.

If it weren't for the way the sand made Jack feel as if he were running underwater, he would have reached the crowd much faster than he had. He didn't have to push through anyone. They parted for him immediately, the walls of people leading him straight to the problem at hand. He caught sight of Kate standing knee-deep in the undulating water, looking jolted, and joined her. Sayid and Sawyer were about a hundred yards away. From where Jack stood, he could see cloudy red water imposed in the deep blue way out that made his stomach tighten. Did another survivor try going swimming again and somehow end up bleeding? But no—something was different about this. Sawyer pulled a dark shape towards the shore while Sayid seemed to gather something before swimming back.

Sawyer's dirty blonde hair was plastered to his face and the sides of his neck as he hefted the figure in his arms when he came into waist-deep water. By the looks of it, the body was female. Jack met Sawyer halfway, splashing through the water with haste. His eyes quickly sought for an assessment of life, but the woman's black clothes concealed the crimson that would elucidate her condition. The only way he was certain she was bleeding was by the blood trickling onto Sawyer's blue shirt, staining it dark. The girl had long blonde hair. There was a deep gash in her temple.

"What happened?" He asked as Sawyer quickly pushed his way through the thrusting water to shore.

"Don't know," Sawyer said gruffly. "Barbie over there," he nodded at Shannon, "said she saw a shark. This don't look like a shark to me, doc."

Kate was by their side in a second. Jack gave her a quick look as he said, "Clear out the tent and get set up first aid kit. We need to get her out of the sun." Kate stared a moment at the limp girl in Sawyer's arms, mouth parted. "Kate!" He snapped her back to attention. "Go!"

She did. Sawyer made it to the beach and followed where Kate had disappeared in what was now dubbed the medical tent, where the U.S. Marshall had died only two days before. He tried to quicken his pace, but Jack precluded him from doing so. Jack was trying to examine the girl and walk at the same time. He picked up her wrist that lacked any sort of conscious strength and tried to take quick pulse. Her arm was covered in a sheen black material. There were strange gloves on her hands. He delicately pulled the glove off and rolled up the sleeve, feeling the vein.

She had a pulse, but a faint one. Now he hastened Sawyer to walk faster.

"She's lost a lot of blood," he informed Sawyer as they strode to the tent, the way he would talk to a nurse or technician back at the trauma center when they'd cart someone in.

Inside the tent, Sawyer placed the stranger on a strewn out blanket and stepped aside. Kate stood near the entrance, her face tight with unease, her arms crossed guardedly. She'd set the supplies Jack needed right next to the blanket.

Jack perused the woman's body for any sign of injury. The wound in her head was obvious, but by the amount of blood she had already lost, there was something he was overlooking. A split second decision made him seize a razor and cut open the odd, almost thermal material of her shirt from the center of the hem to the bottom. Underneath was a tank top in the same material and color. A shining silver necklace in the shape of a heart rested at the base of her throat. Bright red crimson caught his eye on her left, just where the now cut material frayed at her shoulder. He pulled it aside, revealing the hidden wound.

He had seen it before. It was a bullet wound. After examining it scrupulously, he beckoned to Kate. "Hold this over the wound," he said, handing her a large piece of gauze. "There isn't damage to any major arteries there. We just have to get the bleeding to stop. Her head wound is what concerns me."

Kate abided by his words and pressed the gauze to the girl's skin. She winced when she saw red blossom like a flower in the gauze before looking back up at Jack, who was delicately probing the head wound. The gash looked like it went pretty deep and every so often a spurt of blood would stream out.

"Where do you think she came from?" Kate asked in a hush, pressing her lips together.

"Hell if I know," Sawyer said tactlessly, his arms crossed firmly over his chest as he observed with indifference.

"Do you think she could be a survivor from the tail of the plane?"

Kate received no answer, only a dubious silence.

Jack was quick to tend to the head wound as he clotted the blood. A half hour passed before he could put butterfly Band-Aids over it to hold the skin together. But he wasn't done yet. He had Kate move aside and removed the gauze from the girl's arm. The bullet hole was clear, now. It hadn't gone through to the other side.

"Grab the tweezers," he instructed and was quickly handed a pair of metal tweezers. He held it over the bullet hole and glanced down at the girl's face for the first time since seeing her getting dragged from the water. Her blonde hair was still matted around her, partially pulled from a pony tail she'd tugged it into at some point. Her pallor was nearly white and her lips turning blue. Unawake, she still looked to be in some pain. He knew that picking the bullet from where it had embedded itself in her skin would probably exacerbate that.

He steadied himself as he inserted the tweezers. Metal touched metal, and he tried digging the bullet out.

The girl gritted her teeth together as she let out a plaintive cry of pain.

"Get some water," he told Sawyer, who surprisingly quickly disappeared to fetch it. The girl was thrashing, seemingly in a semi-conscious state. Sawyer returned quickly, handing a bottle of water to Jack. Jack set it aside as he finished pulling the bullet out. He let it fall to the sand as he soaked a clean white fabric in the water and dripped it into the girl's mouth first, and then over the newly bleeding bullet wound. She fell back into an unconscious delirium.

Kate stared wide-eyed at the blood spattered grains of sand in front of her. "Jack," she said slowly. "She was shot."

Jack only nodded. "I know."

As he finished wrapping gauze and tape around the stranger's arm, he sat back and let a breath out. That was when he realized why Sawyer and Kate had become oddly silent. There was a holster strapped to the girl's thigh with a heavy-looking gun in it.

"Who the hell is she?" Sawyer said, his eyebrows furrowed. "A friggin' Charlie's Angel?"

"Jack." It was Sayid, standing in the triangular entranceway to the tent. There was blood on his shirt, soaked straight through. His face was unreadable but his tone was urgent. "There's something you need to see."

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><p>"He'd already been dead when I pulled him from the water," Sayid explained quietly as he stood with Jack behind the medical tent. In front of them was a man with short blonde hair, the same dark clothes the girl wore, and a chilling expression. His bright blue eyes were wide open and lifeless. His mouth was parted. Water from his clothes soaked into the sand in the shade of the tent.<p>

Jack had made sure to leave the girl in the care of both Kate and Sawyer; the latter now had possession of the gun in question and the former was pressing cold wet clothes to the stranger's forehead.

"He's not all I found, though," Sayid said as he pulled a black backpack into view, along with a silver briefcase. He set them on the ground, his arms crossed. "Sawyer and I had to untangle the backpack from the girl's shoulders. The briefcase had been clasped in his hands."

Nodding, Jack absorbed all of this. Nothing seemed to add up even though only an hour's time had passed. By the looks of it, this man did not die from drowning. He wasn't bleeding. Jack couldn't determine what caused his untimely death. Maybe only the girl would have answers.

The sun descended low in the horizon and Jack's new patient had yet to arise. He sat in the tent, his eyes on her face casted in the glow of torchlight. She had a small frame, but was most likely in her twenties. Folding his fingers together, he stared at the holster strapped to her thigh. Why did she have a gun? How did she get shot when the man didn't have one? Who was she?

Hurley came in an hour later. He paused in the entranceway, taking in the scene before him. There was a small amount of food in his hands—most likely the remnants of what remained. Jack had forgotten about that pressing issue. It would have to be discussed with the others very soon.

"Dude," Hurley said as he walked in, handing Jack a water bottle and some food. "Everyone's talking about this chick. She was strapped? Do you think she was part of a rescue team?"

Jack picked his head up and considered Hurley. It was the first mention of a theory on a rescue team. But what rescue team would need weapons? "I'm not sure, Hurley," he said wearily. "There's no way to know until she wakes."

"You gonna stick around until she does? Could be a while, man."

Jack shrugged. "It'll be sooner or later."

"Sawyer was right," Hurley said in a deeming tone as he looked at the girl further. "She does look like a Charlie's Angel. The hot blonde one. Cuter, though."

A laugh escaped Jack's lips. Leave it to Hurley to break up the gloom.

"Listen," Hurley said on his way out. "You need any help, just holler." Before he left, he added quickly, "As long as it doesn't involve any blood."

Jack smiled again, but it only served to remind him of the past few days everyone had endured. A good night's sleep had eluded him since the crash due to his constant worries and the monster that seemed to make nightly jungle haunts a sort of habit. Now with the mystery presented before him, he knew he wouldn't sleep, still. It would be wise to skip the attempt and stay so that the girl wouldn't wake alone.

His lack of sleep won out in the end. For a moment, he had told himself, he would shut his eyes. The moment stretched on into hours, and before he knew it, the first beams of daylight were breaching inside the tent as he was being nudged awake. He blinked around groggily and rubbed the back of his wrist over his eyes, sitting up straighter. Kate was beside him.

"How is she?" Kate asked in a whisper.

Jack took a moment to look from Kate to the girl, lying still on the blanket. "She's better out than awake," he said. "She lost too much blood yesterday, and that gash in her head could get too disturbed from healing if she wakes up."

Kate nodded. She paused. "Do you think it was a good idea to give the gun to Sawyer for safekeeping?"

"I took the bullets out," Jack said absently. "It shouldn't be a problem."

"And when she does wake?"

"We'll just have to see."

Sayid joined them a moment later, looking stern. "The others are getting worried. They want to know why someone who wasn't on the plane is here."

"They aren't the only ones," Kate barely said loud enough to be heard.

"This isn't the only thing we should be worried about," Jack told them, wondering if he could gauge their reaction before he actually said it. "We're pretty much out of food."

Both Kate and Sayid were silent until Sayid said, "Then lucky for us we crashed near a jungle. We'll just have to start gathering what's out there."

"What about poisonous fruit?" Kate asked. "We can't exactly get anything if we don't even know what we're looking for."

"We can always ask—"

There was a loud gasp as the blonde girl sucked air into her lungs.

In an instant, Jack was on his feet before kneeling by her side. He moved to cradle her head, but her arm lashed out and she scratched his forearm, drawing a small river of blood. Jack fell back with surprise. The girl pulled herself into a sitting position, moaning with pain as she held a hand to the Band-Aids on her head and edged backwards, away from the three survivors. Her breathing was heavy and labored, and her eyes looked around the tent with terror. As they landed on Jack, she steeled herself and placed her hand on the holster where her gun should be. She felt around for it a moment before realizing it was gone.

"It's okay," Jack said, holding his hands out in front of him. "We're not going to hurt you."

"How convincing," she breathed. Then she broke into a fit of coughing and held a hand to her heart.

"What's your name?" Kate tried in a soft voice, putting on a kind smile.

The girl ignored this as she shoved to her feet. Instead of standing, she wobbled. Jack caught her before she fell back to the ground. She tried putting up a fight, but her limbs felt like dead weights and her head throbbed. Something was wrong with her arm.

"You need to calm down," Jack said. "And you need to sit. You lost too much blood."

"What I _need_," she countered harshly, "is for you to _let go_." Little silver stars began to glitter in her vision, but she tried her hardest to rein in her balance and disregard the pain swelling in her head.

"Listen to me, if you don't sit down all the blood in your head will rush down to your legs and you'll black out. Considering you've been out for almost an entire day, now, I think—"

"A _day_?" This finally seemed to get through to her. She looked at Jack with widened eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember?" Kate asked, grabbing the water bottle on the ground and carefully handing it to the girl. The girl accepted it warily and shook her head. "We found you out in the—"

Jack stopped Kate. He was still staring at the girl he was trying to keep from falling over in his arms. It wouldn't be good to shock her right now. "What's your name?"

She stared at him long and hard, her lips pursed together. The color had returned to them, but the rest of her face was still ashen white. Even her fingers, to the very tips, felt weak and tired. Her heart felt like it was fluttering in her chest, and there was a memory she was suppressing just on the edge of her frayed mind. Finally she said, "Sarah. I'm Sarah."  
>Jack nodded. He gave her a small smile. "I'm Jack."<p>

Whatever response she was prepared to make was cut short by the rustling outside the tent. A moment later, Sawyer emerged, sour-faced as usual when it came to seeing Jack. Then his eyes turned to the unnamed girl. She stared unblinkingly at the gun sticking out of Sawyer's jeans. Her gun.

"Well," Sawyer said as he looked around the faces before him. He pulled out the gun with two fingers and dangling it in the air almost teasingly. "Care to explain this, sweetheart?"

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><p><strong>So what do you think? Please leave a review, even if you didn't like it! I'd like to know what I'm doing right or wrong so that I can improve for you guys! (-:<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOST.**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews for the first chapter! (-:**

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><p><em><strong>-Two-<strong>_

Sarah pressed her lips together until they were bloodless. She stared at Sawyer, a stranger to her. A stranger who had stripped her of the only weapon she had and now held it pinched between two fingers as if it were nothing but a toy. Then he flipped it around carelessly and captured it in his hand. By the way he held it, she knew he had handled guns before. He tried to look nonchalant, but it was obvious.

She could feel the stares of the other strangers in the room, silently pressing her to answer Sawyer's question. _Care to explain this, sweetheart?_ Not really.

Another painful throb in her head made her wince outwardly. She did as the man, Jack, had asked and slowly settled back on the blanket in the sand. There was acute pain in the side of her arm. Glancing down at it, she realized it was wrapped in white gauze and tape. It was a professional job, too, and not just some haphazard attempt. She considered what Jack had told her not a moment ago, about the blood rushing from her head to her legs if she didn't sit. That she'd faint. He was in the medical field, she supposed, or had at some point dealt with first aid. She looked at him, now, finding the hazel eyes she'd woken up and seen first. They were far from threatening. They were kind. She saw the angry bloody mar she'd made on his arm. His lack of counter-reaction made him seem kinder. The people she knew probably would have shot her for it.

"Tell you what," Sarah finally broke the silence, a plan in place. "You guys tell me what the hell is going on, and I'll tell you about that," she gestured towards the gun. "Deal?"

Sawyer gave her a smug smile. "Deal." He nodded at Jack. "Take it away, doc."

Jack looked between the two with hesitance. He had wanted to hold off on this part until later, but it was no longer an option. Sighing, he ran a hand over his hair. "We found you out in the water yesterday. Sawyer brought you in. You've been shot and maybe stabbed." He gestured to her arm and temple respectively. "Do you… well do you remember what happened to you?"

Sarah looked away from him. "I want to know why I'm under some makeshift tent instead of in a proper hospital."

They all exchanged glances.

"Believe me," Jack said, "if we could have gotten you into a hospital, we would have."

"There just isn't one that's… around…" Kate trailed off, frowning.

Sarah stared at them frankly. "What do you mean 'there's not one that's around'? What town are we in? What country?" She peered outside at the white-capped waves rolling in. "A fishing village or something?"

Jack sighed. "We don't exactly know."

"I'm sorry—_you don't exactly know_?" Sarah was on her feet again, and pacing. Her eyes kept flicking around the tent, catching sight of things that made her uneasy feeling blossom further. Everything looked half destroyed, like something had happened. Why would she be on a beach of all places? There weren't any docks or boats. This wasn't a fishing village. "What the hell?"

"As far as we can tell, we're not on any known island. Or if we are…" Jack looked at his shoes.

_Island?_ Sarah felt faint. She stopped and crossed her arms. "Or if we are _what?_"

"They aren't looking for us in the right place," Sayid said calmly. His presence had been forgotten up until this point. Sarah stared at him raptly.

"Will someone just explain it _plainly_ instead of in these dramatic little sentences?"

"Our plane crashed," Sayid said. It was apparent in his tone that he wasn't appreciative of Sarah's. "About a thousand miles off course. Only forty-eight people survived the crash. We've been here for six days, now."

Everything was slowly coming together for Sarah.

Jack looked at Sayid before saying, "We're survivors of Flight 815, from—"

"Sydney, Australia," Sarah answered in wonderment. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not."

Kate stepped forward, anxious. "You've heard about the flight? So do you know if anyone's looking for us? When they're coming?"

Sarah fell back to the blanket, feeling terribly worn out. She cradled her head in her hands. "I only know that your plane didn't land where it was supposed to, _when_ it was supposed to. I didn't realize that you… crashed. The news hasn't exactly been the first thing on my mind lately."

Kate sighed in frustration and looked away, out the entranceway of the tent and towards the endless ocean. Sarah understood the woman's disappointment. She was now stuck with them here, too, after all.

"We answered your questions," the man with the Southern twang, Sawyer, said gruffly. When Sarah looked up at him, she could read his shrouded disappointment, too. "Now it's your turn to answer ours."

"You want to know about the gun," she stated.

"And that outfit of yours," he added, his eyes roaming over her body in a way that made her want to stab him. "Last time I checked, Charlie's Angels had been canceled in the eighties."

"Like I haven't heard _that_ before," she muttered under her breath, dusting the sand off her pants and tank top. She hadn't realized that the heavy jacket she'd worn over it had been removed until now. It lay in the sand a foot away as if thrown without much care. She looked back up at the survivors before her. "I'm FBI. Last time I checked, we were issued guns for the job. And this," she gestured at her outfit, "was for an assignment."

The shift in their eyes was almost immediate. She knew what feeling safe did for other people. She could see it in all but Sawyer's eyes. While the others were much less wary of her now, Sawyer only seemed more suspicious. He crossed his arms.

"Sorry if I can't seem to take your word for it," he said. "I wouldn't mind seeing a badge."

Sarah blinked for just a moment. Clever. She patted around her pockets, and when she came up missing, she made sure to check her torn up jacket. Then she frowned. "I must have lost it. You said I was in the water, right?" She asked Jack, then turned back to Sawyer. "You want to see it, go swimming."

He smirked. "Then at least explain this to me. Feds don't have any jurisdiction outside the US. What were you doing out in the water?"

Pressing her lips together again to keep from snapping a retort, she remained impassive. "Watercrafts belonging to the United States are still considered to be American soil, like planes. I was on a boat."

"Doing what?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've interrogated enough people to realize when it's happening to me. You don't trust me, then fine. But I don't have to explain myself to you." She shoved back to her feet again. "Now can I have my gun back?"

"Why so anxious?" He smirked, holding it out of reach.

"Because having a civilian handle my weapon is against protocol," she said with as much patience as she could muster. "And you're starting to be a real pain in my ass."

Sawyer laughed. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? How about I hold onto this until we get to know you a little better, huh?"

"Sawyer," Kate spoke up, obviously irked. "Give her the gun back."

"Says the fugitive," he said with a sly grin. "I think I could get used to this. I can picture the two of you—"

"Sawyer," Jack said firmly. "Just give it to her. There aren't any bullets in it, anyway."

Sawyer gave Jack a dark look before handing the gun over to Sarah, none too pleased. Sarah strapped it back in her holster and looked at Jack.

"Now where's Alexei?"

Kate's eyebrows scrunched together. "Alexei?"

"Yes," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "Where is he? He was with me on the boat."

Sayid and Jack looked at each other hesitantly. Sarah didn't take her eyes off of Jack.

It was in his eyes. It was always in the eyes. That pity or hint of doubt, that window into the soul. Sarah stared straight into this stranger's, and she knew. Her heart throbbed painfully. "Tell me where he is," she demanded. She couldn't keep her voice from breaking.

Jack nodded, looking down. "He's just outside." He began to head towards the back of the tent to show her, but Sarah saw his movement and was faster. She spun on her heel and was outside in a moment, collecting the sun's rays with her dark clothes. There was a patch of shade to her left, where the tent blocked the sun. Within the shade, she could see the form of a body beneath a blanket. Her world tilted and she folded to her knees beside it.

Tears didn't form in her eyes. She only stared at the shape for a few silent moments before reaching out and pulling the blanket back from his head.

There he was. Alexei. With his blonde hair and baby blue eyes that had grown a ghastly color as death stretched over time. Everything came back to her.

_The night sky was a scene of rain, falling from the heavens like massive teardrops that angrily struck the water below. There was nothing to see in the distance but the huge rise and fall of black waves that shone like silver from the moon, breaking the disparity of blackness between the water and the starless horizon. Combined, the rain and waves were so loud that Sarah could hardly hear anything else. It helped block out her thoughts._

_She watched a woman, another passenger, duck back inside the main part of the small ship to get out of the downpour. Sarah didn't bother to follow. In her thermal clothes, she didn't even shiver in the freezing temperatures. Her hair stuck to her face and neck like seaweed and droplets trickled down her face, her neck and arms, ending in rivulets at her glove-clad hands. There were small butterfly stitches covering her temple, from her hectic run-in in London. When she had boarded, she had taken special precautions to ensure she would blend in with the crowd. Now, it didn't matter._

_The ship was taking her to France, fighting its way across the stormy ocean to get away from London and everyone in it. She closed her eyes and let herself go numb. She didn't want to think about what Julian had asked her to do, who he had asked her to meet. It was over. It was finally over. This was her escape._

"_Sarah!"_

_Her eyes snapped open. When she turned around, her eyes landed on Alexei. He wore what she did to fend off the cold and work more fluidly with, to go more undetected in the night. If it weren't for those piercing baby blue eyes and silvery blonde hair, it would have been hard to discern him from the shadows he stood within. _

_Immediately her hand was on the gun strapped to her leg. If it weren't for her heart telling her otherwise, she would have pointed it at him already and fired. _Take no chances_. That's what she told herself when she left London. Alexei would ruin everything. But maybe he could help her, instead._

"_Alexei," she said, having to shout over the roar of the waves and the splatter of rain on the deck. "You followed me."_

"_What are you doing?" He came closer, not the least bit bothered by her threat of using the gun. His own was in his hand. "You're supposed to be in London. You have orders."_

_She shook her head, splaying water in a swirl around her soaked hair. "No. No, I'm done with that."_

_Alexei narrowed his eyes. "Done?" He laughed, then. "Sarah, what are you talking about? We're just getting started with things. We're—"_

_Her jaw was set. "I don't kill children. That was never part of the deal."_

_Alexei raised a blonde eyebrow. "So corrupted officials and influential people are okay, but not kids? Kids grow up to be corrupted, Sarah. It's all the same."_

"_It's not," she said angrily. "She was just a little girl! Julian didn't have to hurt her—he didn't have to kill her! I'm done with this Alexei! I'm finished!"_

_He came closer, still, only a few feet away. "You can't be. He won't let you go. You know that."_

"_He won't, or you won't?"_

_Alexei's eyebrows pulled together sadly. "Don't do this to me, Sarah. Don't make me do this."_

_Sarah's eyes flitted down to his hand where he gripped the gun harder. Her eyes widened. "Then come with me. We can both get away. He can't control us."_

_Alexei shook his head, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "You don't get it, do you? We're making a difference. We're doing something with our lives. The orders we have save other people. Sarah, this isn't something you run away from. You'll regret it."_

_She paused. "Are you threatening me?"_

"_I've been given orders to bring you back," he clarified. "I'm warning you. If you won't go back… I… I have to…" he trailed off, staring down at the piece of death he held in his hands._

"_You have to kill me."_

"_It's orders," he said helplessly, as if it made things better. "Julian said that—"_

"_Who_ cares_ what Julian said?" She shouted, angry tears building up in her eyes now. Whenever she thought of Julian, she saw that little girl bleeding on the floor, cut and bruised. She saw the final bullet going through her skull, her head fly black, blood spurt through the air. She felt helpless all over again. _

"_Sarah," Alexei tried reaching out to her, but she stepped out of reach. His hands fell back to his sides. "He gave me a new life. I owe him mine in return."_

"_I don't believe that," she refuted angrily. There was no end to this. Julian had Alexei brainwashed—even she, of all people in the world, could not get through to him. She wanted to beg. She wanted to cry. But he was lost to her, and she knew that now. It was in his eyes. She edged herself towards the railing of the ship, slowly. "You never owe anyone anything. If you did, you would owe me."_

_Sarah couldn't tell if Alexei was crying or if the raindrops posed themselves as tears on his cheeks. "Sarah, I don't want to do this."_

"_Then don't," she said simply. Her hand was now on the railing. She wouldn't have time to grab her gun anymore. He had always been faster that way. Once glance down at the water told her that this could be the end of her, too. The black water would swallow her up if she got caught in a drift. Nothing could save her from nature, though perhaps man's hand was more cruel. _

"_Sarah," he implored. Slowly, he raised the gun up until it was fixed on her skull. He would give her a swift end. Alexei wasn't like Julian, who liked to draw things out. "This is what we are. You can't run from it. You just can't."_

"_We are not bloodthirsty killers," she said. "We don't murder people mindlessly. You won't kill me." But she knew he would._

_There was a flash of lighting. She used it to heft herself over the rail. A shot rang off from behind, piercing the skin in her arm. She fell through the air almost weightlessly with her eyes pinched shut. For a moment, she thought she could fly. But then she plunged into icy water. Her body was thrown around until her already wounded head connected with something concrete, and she was paralyzed into going limp. Her eyes were open, taking everything in. She sunk, slowly, down into a fathomless black pit below. _

_Water crashed above her. She could barely hear it. But then a figure clad in all black was swimming down to her, rocking in the current of the waves as he gripped her arm and tried pulling her up. The last thing she saw was silvery blonde hair and baby blue eyes before everything turned into a seeping sea of black._

Sarah blinked. She sat back on her haunches, her shoulders in a droop and her hands in her lap. Alexei's skin looked so pale in the shade. He never liked the sunlight the way she had. Reaching out, she laid her hand on his cold face in a caress.

_Why did you come back for me?_

"Who was he?" Kate asked quietly. She looked down at the limp form sullenly.

Sarah bit the inside of her lip. "He was my partner." She stared at his face, memorizing it down to the very last detail. But she had already had it memorized. Since she'd first met him, she had. "What happened to him?"

"I'm not sure yet," Jack answered. "He didn't drown. And he wasn't shot. I didn't see any signs of blood loss. You don't remember?"

"I blacked out."

"How convenient," Sawyer muttered. The others shot him reproachful looks, but Sarah didn't blame him one bit. She knew she would have to be very careful, though. He seemed to catch on to too much.

After covering Alexei's face once more, Sarah returned to the medical tent. She looked out at the bright, vast ocean. On the beach were other tents of similar construction. People walked about. Strangers.

She would have to be very careful, indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think and what I can do to improve. Is Sarah too typical? Complex enough? I'll get more into her story, of course, but what did you think of this chapter?<strong>


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